Remember my Last, Petunia
by Anikathepen
Summary: Set at the opening of HBP: Dumbledore's howler stirs up some unpleasant memories for Petunia Dursley.


**Title:** Remember my last, Petunia.

**Author:** Anikathepen

**Rating:** Possibly a PG-13, probably lower.

**Disclaimer:** Not mind, don't own, yadda yadda.

**Summary:** Spoilers for Book Six, Dumbledore's Howler stirs up memories for Aunt Petunia.

**Author's Note:** My first piece for in three years, be gentle; saying that, constructive criticism is readily accepted.

Remember my last, Petunia.

I didn't remember her first.

Maybe that makes me a bad sister, perhaps it just makes me the same as any other. Whatever it makes me; a sneak, a grass, a backstabber - it wasn't on purpose. Still , it wasn't any use trying to explain all of this to Lily - I was no longer someone to be trusted with secrets as far as she was concerned, she swore she would never forgive me in a million years. One million years lasted until about five minutes after tea and, after I'd given Lily my pocket money to make up for mum and dad taking hers, we were soon back to normal.

She probably forgot all about it.

I never could.

"'Tunia! 'Tunia, come quick!"

Lily had been grinning, practically bouncing with excitement. "Come see!"

Upon reflection, I should have stayed where I was - enjoying the warm afternoon under the old oak tree with a book. Instead I sighed, got up and followed her as she raced off in the direction of the shed.

It had been dark and musty inside, dusting floating through the shafts of light. Silent too, the only sounds where rustling as Lily moved the cardboard boxes at the back of the shed, and a soft mewing.

"What's that?" I'd asked as Lily turned around, a small tabby kitten in her arms.

"His name's Tigger." She smiled, stroking him gently.

"Where did you get him?" I asked, already knowing the answer. Our next-door neighbour's cat had just had kittens. I knew because she'd asked Lily and I if we'd wanted to have one. We'd said "yes", Dad had said "no". We were too young for a pet, he'd said, we weren't responsible enough; yet here was that kitten, hidden away in the shed with the old tin cans and boxes.

"Next door, he came in under the hedge."

"You should give him back." I'd told her, wary of our parents' reaction. "He needs to be with his mum."

"I'm his mum now." Lily had replied defiantly. "And you have to promise not to tell."

And so I'd promised. I'm promised to keep Tigger a secret, so Lily would be able to keep him and not get in trouble.

That first promise barely lasted 24 hours, I'd almost forgotten all about Tigger as I'd dozed away the second afternoon in a row under the old tree, lost in the adventures of Julian, Dick, George, Anne and Timmy the dog. Lily had new adventures every day and her most recent had been forgotten the moment Five had found the Lost Island.

That's my excuse, the reason why when my mother had hurried over and asked if I'd seen a kitten I replied "yes" before I'd thought about it, I'd had to give the full story then - I'd practically confessed as it was. I spent the rest of my life kicking myself but never more so than when our mother had stood and screamed at Lily, telling her she'd have no pocket for a week and was grounded for a month.

Lily had said nothing, just twirled an auburn strand around her finger and stared at me with reproachful green eyes.

My first promise to her, broken the day after it was made.

And that was how I forgot the first promise.

I forgot the first and today I almost forgot the last.

But then there was the letter, the red, burning letter, and those words. 'Remember my last, Petunia.'

I can never forget the last.

"The boy stays, Vernon." my words had hung in the silence of the kitchen, a shock to all three of the men there. I'd caught the boy looking at me with those deep green eyes, the same eyes that had cried over my first betrayal.

I couldn't save my sister, the old silver-haired man had told me that nobody could have. Nobody could save Lily, but I had to save her son. I had to keep him here, keep his home with us and then he would be safe.

I wasn't doing it for him. Not the boy or the old man. Maybe I was doing it for Lily but probably, most likely, I was doing it for me.

I had to remember the last.

It was the only way I could forget the first.


End file.
